


BNHA Drabbles + Prompts (creative title, I know.)

by Fabellion



Category: My Hero Academia
Genre: ? - Freeform, Anxiety, Are these still called drabbles anymore?, Drabbles, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, M/M, Minor Angst, Self-Harm, These are literally either just unfinished things or warmups, also boom there’s an inbetween now, as of yet anyway, biting as self harm, implied cuddling, its called a prompt, more like imaginary cuddling tbh, there is no in between, yeah let’s go with that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabellion/pseuds/Fabellion
Summary: This is just a bunch of drabbles the author has either made as a warmup or as something that has not yet been finished (if it will ever be finished).Inside we have fluffy TodoDeku, childhood angst, and eventually more!





	1. 1- TodoDeku fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says. This was actually supposed to be its own fanfic until I found that I couldn’t decide what I wanted to write near where it’s currently ended. So until I (hopefully) do something with it, this shall be its home!

There's so many things about loving he just can't understand.

There were the small things; the little twinkles sparkling in Shouto's gaze as their eyes caught, or perhaps the sway of their hands intermingled in complacent harmony. It could've been in his smile, or his laugh, or his scent. Any, all of these things could've been that working a flush spread up and around and across his pale shoulders to his cheeks, freckles hidden away in a ladybug backsplash of pink. 

Then, the more he mulled over it, there was also the big things, the more intimate yet no less important things; Izuku hadn't had a panic attack in a good while, but there wasn't a touch of doubt in his mind that Shouto wouldn't wrap him in firmly gentle arms and count with him to breath, just breath, in, out, in, out, 3, 2, 1—and all would fall still again. And it was just last august he'd fallen prey to the flu, when his foolishly dancing in the rainbow downpour of fall marked him a week-long victim of cough drops, thermometers, and chicken noodle soup. Izuku was sure then and there that Shouto branded him a fool, stood shaking his head, how, how could I have chosen such a childish lover? Such fears were what swamped him over even more surely than those lonely, fever-ridden nights, hiding his face 'neath the covers from insecurities roving in the dark. Most certainly, Shouto thought he wasn't worth his time, now. Izuku cried those nights; he'd deny it, with only his All Might themed bedspread being a witness. 

Three days were all it took to for Shouto to ground sensitive, unsure little Izuku to the reality that Shouto was staying, he loved Izuku, he wasn't moving a single step from his side.

And he didn't, the remainder of that week. He rubbed circles on Izuku's back in vain efforts to curb the nausea bubbling inside him, swapped his dust-musty water with a fresh, cold glass and changed out his sweat-soaked bedsheets with not a single uttered complaint. All the while he'd pepper pitiful Izuku's forehead in little kisses, muttering a 'get well soon' followed by every one. By each of those days' end Izuku felt his heart couldn't swell any lighter. 

Indeed, he simply can't understand just where he'd gone so right as to earn someone as amazing as Shouto Todoroki within his life. 

\---


	2. 2- Childhood musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly a warmup that got out of hand—especially given that there’s actually more written to this than what’s being added here. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy!

It was anyone's guess as to how they'd gotten along so well in their youth. But then, childhood was the perfect playwright to learn oneselfs' character, and giving the main lead a supporting friend was only deemed natural. It hadn't mattered back then which one of them stole the hero's role; all they knew was that it was fun. They were both having fun, and that's what was important. 

But then they'd both grown up, and Kacchan got a quirk, and he didn't, and suddenly he wasn't even worthy to walk the same ground anymore.

Things were better before the doctor visits. Things were better before the word "quirkless" became a constant in his vocabulary. If he'd known what was to happen that day, he'd have never left the house, not even if humanity's greatest hero himself had been coaxing him with a bright-laced smile. 

And then, at the same time, Izuku felt he wouldn't have changed a single thing. After all, who could have known if things would surely end up differently? Childhood had simply been a warmup as to what was to come, and the stage of their life was still every bit as daunting as the day they'd first set foot upon it. Even if they'd chosen to switch stage directions—perhaps pit Izuku over here, Kacchan over there, mix up their lines a little—not a single member could pin how things would play in this free-for-all masquerade.


	3. 3- Just Deku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more angst! This could be considered vent, actually.

Silence clung true in the should be, would be, soon-to-be hero's room. That was fine. He was fine with that. Even as it roped through his ribcage and pinpricked his lungs open and muffled his heart, he was fine with that.

None of it really hurt that badly, anyway; everything was a frostbitten blanket lain thin over each and every thread, ice shards tickling the edges.

It didn't feel like anything. 

It didn't sound like anything. 

His ears were clogged beneath the whisper of static fuzzying his head, anyway; of course it didn't sound like anything, he couldn't hear. He couldn't hear. He couldn't see. Fog swam before his eyes in a mask, blackened by his sheet covers' gloom. 

It was so dark. 

But, in the end, it didn't matter. He was just Deku, so of course it didn't matter. Just Deku. He was just Deku. Deku. That was all.


	4. Gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku is feeling anxious during his English class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not explicitly stated, but Izuku is indeed the one this drabble follows.

Sweat poured down his temple like a waterfall, pooled in his palms like rain. 

A flame, fluttering deep, deep inside his chest; it burrowed itself in between his lungs and _pulsed_ , churned and charred the inner lining of his body. 

Suffocated him from the inside out.

So there he sat in the middle of class, breathing out ash and sucking in acid, feeling as it fueled the fire licking hungrily at it. 

And then it began to expand, ballooning in his chest and his lungs and beneath his skin and he gasped, a barely audible sound; tighter and tighter and tighter it wound and constricted and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t _BREATHE—_

Sparks exploded on his arm, tingling, finally blooming into red-white hot _pain_ beneath his teeth. They poked a hole through his body and lanced through his lungs and released the flames searing his insides in a sweeping, euphoric rush. Something coppery swirled on his tongue.

So he pulled back to look, head foggy and dazed—simply sitting and staring and watching as crimson rivulets down his arm. Any remaining ashes shudder out with the fuel. Instead everything is hollow, now. 

It feels better. So, so much better. He could breathe again. Everything was okay again. Rubies splashed to his desktop and dotted the page of English he should’ve been staring at instead. But that was okay, because everything else was faded away. It was all okay. 

All he had now was to make sure Uraraka and Iida hadn’t seen; no matter how hard it’d be to hide a bite from gasoline.


	5. Drifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s  
> It’s a writing prompt / word vomit thing with deku, what more can I say

Izuku, curled up in his bed, has found that he’s unable to sleep for some indiscernible reason. His stomach feels...odd. It isn’t churning, exactly, or even all that tight, but it just feels as though a hollow ball of unease has burrowed itself in his gut and melded with the soft flesh around it, clogging up his lungs and leaving himself a knotty mess. 

He curls further into the covers and sets down his phone. He’d been using it as a distraction; a fruitless one, nonetheless. A pang of loneliness amalgamates with the indescribable and stirs him up that much more. Izuku almost whimpers. He wants someone there by his side, all of a sudden, but he can’t even begin to guess who. 

Kacchan? Nah, he’d be a bit too brash for tonight... Kirishima? It was a tempting idea, admittedly, but something still seemed off about him. Then, Todoroki? Iida? Uraraka?

He settles into the mattress after a brief squirm. They...they all sounded like they might be okay. 

Maybe if he saw someone he wouldn’t feel so isolated. Perhaps they’d be able to calm the storm raving in his gut. He hoped so. 

Izuku’s mind drifts between the possibilities; Todoroki might ask him what was wrong, but then he might as well stay quiet, too; it was hard to guess what he was thinking, but somehow he always seemed to guess what Izuku was. He’d probably climb into bed with him—underneath the covers since they were close enough—and just stay there, saturating the room with his comfortable presence until Izuku found peace of mind. Maybe they’d snuggle for a bit. That’d be nice, he thinks, eyes growing heavy. 

Speaking of, would Iida cuddle him too? Surely he’d hold Izuku flush to his broad chest and rub circles along his back, pressing just hard enough to coax his entire being into relaxing. Either of those two might hum a bit. But then, that was more Uraraka’s speed, wasn’t it? Even if she was shy at first, she’s grown fond of singing to him now, so she may just whisper a little toon to help lull his way into the thick of sleep. She would probably play with his hair. Combing her fingers through the curly locks, petting them, feeling them. Her voice and touch alone could stave the flooding of anymore lonely hunger. 

The thought itself is a gratifying one. Already his chest feels lighter, and soon after the claws of sleep gently beckon to lull him under. He accepts with grateful, relived arms.


End file.
